


I Can't Let Go

by pedrhoe_pascal



Category: Law & Order: SVU
Genre: Angst, Angst and Tragedy, Blood, Character Death, F/M, Implied/Referenced Suicide, Love Confessions, Mutual Pining, Shock, Violence
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-22
Updated: 2020-08-22
Packaged: 2021-03-06 19:01:07
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,557
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26053858
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/pedrhoe_pascal/pseuds/pedrhoe_pascal
Summary: Your brother died a year ago, it was claimed to be a suicide. Now, the case has reopened to confirm your suspicion from the start. Rafael is at your side once again but he's afraid he's lost you to the reopening of the case.
Relationships: Rafael Barba/Reader, Rafael Barba/You
Comments: 3
Kudos: 9





	I Can't Let Go

**Author's Note:**

> TRIGGER WARNING  
> While none of this talks about the physical act of suicide, it is mentioned and referenced. There is some light description of gun wounds and death.
> 
> I honestly forgot about this piece and it was sitting unfinished for weeks. This was my first half-assed attempt at angst.

“-his cases will now be reopened. The state is looking at hundreds of cases that will be returned for review from divorces to homicide. It is uncertain how many cases MEFrancis Knapp tampered with. If you’ve got any further information regarding ME Francis Knapp or his cases, you are asked to contact the following numbers on your screen.”

You couldn’t believe your eyes or ears. The man who ruled your brother’s death as a suicide was a puppet to a local gang. Almost a year later, the wound of losing your brother has been reopened because he was being blackmailed to lie. Your hands covered your mouth which was open in shock, tears welling in your eyes. You knew he didn’t kill himself but no one would listen! Now, after finally accepting and coping, you find out you were right.

**-One year ago-**

You’re speeding and speaking on the phone with Rafael.

“Where are they headed? Where is he?”

Your voice came out flustered and airy. You couldn’t help it. Your brother had been missing for 4 months and they finally found him. You’d gone to Rafael and his team as soon as your brother went missing. The only reason they were able to work the case was because your brother had contact with a gang who was trafficking young girls. Your brother was, no, is a good kid. Sure, he smoked pot and would mix with the wrong crowd but he wasn’t one to partake in the gang life. He was naive and was at the wrong place at the wrong time. So, while the team looked to stop the trafficking ring they also looked for your brother. 

“You know I can’t..”

“Tell me, Rafael! He’s my fucking brother I need to protect him.”

You already blamed yourself for not getting him away from his bad habits. Habits that know had his life in jeopardy. You weren’t about to fail him a second time, you were going to find him and embrace him and help him. Rafael gave you the address where he knew his team was heading and you hung up without another word, speeding to the address. 

My heart was beating out of my chest. I’m scared but, also excited, I’ll finally get to see my brother again. I slammed on the brakes when I saw a body lying in the middle of the road, my heart stopped. I froze, my hands gripping the wheel tightly and my foot pressed so hard against the brake I thought it’d go through the floor. My breathing was heavy and my eyes were locked on the heap on the road. I put the car in park, illegally parking wasn’t a concern of mine.

“Oh my god. No no no no no.”, I shouted while unbuckling and busting out of the car.

I ran to the body, the air felt abnormally cold against my skin and I wasn’t even sure if I was breathing or not. I need even felt my feet hit the concrete or strain from running. I prayed that I had stumbled across a homicide, for it to be anyone but your brother. 

When I was close enough to see the body, I dropped to my knees. It was him. He laid on his back blood pooled around his head a gun sat near his right hand. I cradled his head in my lap and checked for a pulse, I could only feel his warm damp skin, no pulse. 

“No-no-no. C’mon, you’re okay. It’s okay. You’re going to be okay. I love you and I’m sorry. So sorry.”

I sobbed. I couldn’t control my breathing tears burned my cheeks. I kept wiping his hair away from his face. Nothing in the world mattered. He was here but, not how you wanted. Your heart broke, you knew he was gone. In your gut, you knew it and the lack of pulse and warmth in his skin was just proof.

Red and blue lights lit up behind you and the sirens had long been filling the streets but, you never noticed. You just kept crying and saying broken sentences to him. 

“Please. It’s okay. I’ve got you. Please, please, please.”

The hands on your shoulder were pulling you up and away from the body.

“No, no! He needs me.”

There's yelling but you don’t hear it. Paramedics surrounded his body so you let the hands lead you away. You blindly turned into the body and sobbed. They led you away from the body and never let go. You were walked to the front of a car, both of you leaning on the hood. A blanket wrapped around your shoulders, and so did a warm embrace. Once again you turned into the embrace, your senses finally came back. A deep colon with hints of bergamot filled your nose, it was familiar and welcoming. The chest your head laid on was rumbling, they were talking to you. You forced yourself to listen and feel your surroundings. 

“I know, I know. I’ve got you. Listen to me, focus on my voice.”

“Rafi?”

“Yeah, it’s me. I’m here.”

**-Present-day-**

I will never forget what I saw that day. I won’t forget how my brother's sticky blood covered my legs and abdomen. I had finally, after different counselling courses and coping mechanisms, learned to accept my brother's death and now I’m hearing that he may not have died the way I was told and convinced he was. Just like that fateful day, I called Rafael. He must have been waiting on his phone because he answered before the first ring even finished. I didn’t even let him get a word in before I started loudly and emotionally rambling.

“They’re reopening his case. I knew it. I knew he didn’t kill himself. Rafi, we have to find his killer. We have to go back, relook at everything. Anything that he’s ever touched needs to be gone through and we’ll retrace his steps and behaviour. We can’t rule anyone out, our eyes need to…”

You only stop because Rafael’s voice cuts through the phone.

“I know. The case will be reopened and his death will be properly handled and documented.”

His voice was smooth and reassuring, it was everything you wanted to hear. Even though he made you feel safe he wasn’t saying the exact details you wanted to hear.

“Have you called Olivia? Does she already know? Is she at the precinct now?”

“Nena, Nena, listen to me. The case is out of our hands. Not only is it not our unit anymore but, it will most likely go higher up too.”

You never thought your heart would break again like it did the day the found your brother. But, now as you hear Rafael, your Rafi, say that he isn’t going to help you, your heart shatters. You’ve known him for the past 11 years when your brother first got caught up in legal trouble. He’s been there for so long, one of the few people you truly trust. You love this man, no, you’re in love with this man. Even if he doesn’t reciprocate these feelings, you thought he loved you enough to be there no matter what.

“What? Woah Woah Woah. What do you mean you're not working the case? This is my brother we’re talking about. My baby brother, who’s dead body I held! You’re not even going to help give him, give me the answers we deserve.”

You were yelling at him, you didn’t want to but you couldn’t help it. You were beyond angry and even if you knew it was out of his hands and that your angry was illogical you couldn’t control how you felt. So, before he even had a chance to further explain you hung up.

The next four hours pass in a blur. You were busy pulling out every document you had on your brother; photos, receipts, transcribed phone calls, text messages, photocopies of various thing the police help as evidence. It was all scattered around your apartment, your mind working a million miles a minute. You rushed out quiet nonsense to yourself, almost as a way to keep some of your thoughts out of your head. You weren’t aware of your surroundings, you didn’t know which lights were on or the street noises or how much time had passed or even your ringing phone. You knew your brother didn’t kill himself, that it was staged. No one listened to you then and now, you had no ears at all. You’re going to find the truth, to avenge your brother's death. 

You are so caught up in the various items around you that you don’t notice the pounding at the door or the yelling on the other side. 

“Cariño? Cariño!”

You let out a chaste scream and turn toward the noise; “Rafael? How did you get in here?”

“I used my key. Cariño, you can’t do this to yourself, not again.”

“No? Why? So long as my brothers killer is free I must work to put him away. Do you think that’s crazy?”

“No no, not at all. However, this is above your pay grade, you’re not qualified to take this responsibility on. You’ve got to leave it up the professionals, let them do their job without interruption.”

“Right, because that worked so well the first time. I left it up to you guys, and you told me he blew his brains out on the street. So, forgive me if I don’t want to ‘leave this to the professionals’!” 

You’re seeing red and your throat is dry from yelling. You’re too preoccupied with the shock of your brother that you quickly look back to your scattered papers. You don’t see Rafael’s face fall at your words, or how hurt he is by what you’ve said. Do you blame the team? Him? He’s starting to think so. His shoulders fall in defeat, slowly backing away. It physically pains his chest to watch you bury yourself in a pit of despair, again, but he believes you’re too far gone. He leaves, and you don’t even notice.

Rafael knew you were burying yourself in the loss of your brother. He knew because you did a year ago and he hasn’t heard from you in about a week. He’s concerned about you but, he doesn’t want to be on the receiving end of your rage again. Almost as if you could read his mind, your name pops up on his phone. 

“Cariño?”, he asks softly, unsure of your reason for calling.

“Hey, Rafi. I, first, need to apologize to you. I snapped at you for something that was out of your control. I know you and the team would help as soon as possible if you could. I’m sorry, Rafael, you didn’t deserve that.”

“It’s nothing I couldn’t handle”, he jokes with a smirk.

“I’m serious. I didn’t mean it. Te amo”

“Te amo Cariño.”

Rafael’s heart flutters every time you say those words even though he knows you just mean it as a friend. 

“Now, I know last year we had been focusing on the gang activity. And we were right. But, what if we were looking in the wrong place?”

“What do you mean?”

“We were looking at the street activity. But, what was my brother addicted to?”

“He was using opiates.”

“And where can you legally get opiates?”

“From a doctor. And he had an appointment that day. We talked with the doctor he didn’t prescribe him anything. He said he knew he was looking for a quick fix and refused to give it to him. The clerk's check-in paperwork, doctors paperwork and even security cameras confirmed this. So, why are you getting at?”

“That doctor didn’t prescribe my brother anything legally. What if he sets people up in the black market? He has access to the drug and people who want it go to him. He’s got supply and demand all in one place and this way he’d be able to pocket the money.”

Rafael didn’t want to admit that your theory made sense but, it was also slightly far fetched. All your stars would have to align to make it even plausible.

“While that all sounds great, you and I both know that it’s unlikely and there’s no evidence to prove it.”

“But, it’s something that should be looked into, right?”

“You want my honest opinion?” 

“Yes.”

“I think you’re going o drive yourself mad with these theories. I know what happened last time was terrible and now you see a way to make things right. But, this is out of both of our hands and unfortunately, you’re just going to have to sit and wait. Let the police do their jobs, they’ll figure this out.”

“Okay. Fine. Then, I’m going to sleep. I haven’t slept in days and don’t even care or know what time it is.”

“It’s 11 pm on a Saturday night. Get some sleep, Nena.”

You lied. You knew the time and the day. You were going to find this doctor. If he can be found on the streets then that’s where you’ll find him, exactly as your brother had. You had no proof to back up your theory besides a gut feeling, which may sound crazy but when it’s about the death of a loved one you’re willing to do anything. Getting the information needed from the doctor was surprisingly easy. All you did was rough yourself up a little bit, imitate symptoms of with drawl which can easily be found with a googles search and finally make some half-assed excuse for your need of the drug. The doctor said he couldn’t prescribe you anything but that if you were in need to follow up with him. Not a normal follow up, but a follow up where the details are scribbled on a scrap piece of paper. You hadn’t considered any dangers or what the hell you’d do if he right out denied your accusations. You dressed the part, out a tape recorder in your pocket and then drove in the dark. Your heart stopped when you once again saw the doctor, this time dressed down and appearing much more menacing.

“I knew you’d come. You junkies always do.”

You needed him to confess to his crimes and so, you played dumb.

“What do you mean?”

“Wow. You must really be fucked up. Listen what’s your drug of choice and I’ll give you a price.”

“Opium.”

The doctor walks to the back of his car popping the trunk. Inside is a bag filled with containers of miscellaneous pills. This guy means business.

“Wow, you got a lot back here. People could get killed over this.”

“People do.”

This phrase triggers you and you want to smash his face into the bumper. You say your brothers name aloud. This catches the doctor by surprise.

“What did you say?”

And so, you repeat yourself, now making eye contact with a man who looks vicious.

“You killed my brother and staged it as a suicide. Why? Did he not pay you?”

The doctor shoves the trunk shut and puts his hands in his pockets.

“No, he actually paid me regularly. However, he suddenly had a change of heart. He wanted to better himself. He threatened to expose me, so I did what I had to.”

“Which was?”

“Shoot him! I’m sick of these games, no one will ever know what I do. Now, you’re going o go down just like your piece of shit brother.”

You didn’t even have a chance to react. You were so shocked by his sudden furry that when he pulled his hands out from his pocket and aimed them at you, you didn’t realize it was because he had a gun. 

Shock is a funny thing. Now, you’re on the ground, paralyzed. You feel nothing. Why are you on the ground? Where’d the doctor go? Why is my chest warm? Why do my ears ring? Of course, all these things could be answered by the bullet in your chest but shock is a funny thing. You’re unaware of the metal lodged in your chest. You’re unaware of the panic around you, the uniformed officers running past you and yelling for an ambulance. A soft female face leans over you, she’s talking but you can’t hear it. The female officer is trying her best to stop the bleeding, but you’re unaware of it all. Your shock and dazed confusion dissipates when you see a familiar face; Rafael. He’s also talking but it’s not registering in your brain.

“P-pocket. Left Pocket, Rafael.”, you struggle to get the few words out.

“What? What are you talking about Cariño?”

“I-in my left p-pocket.”

Rafael is quick to gently reach in your left pocket and pulls out the tape recorder. 

“Oh Cariño, no. You weren’t supposed to be here. You were supposed to relax and let the police do the dirty work.”

Maybe your shock had kicked back in, maybe it was something the female officer was ding to aid you or, maybe it was all the blood you’d lost; suddenly you don’t feel anything, you feel empty but have energy. 

“Rafael, he confessed. You need to put him away. For me, for my brother and for everyone else he’s hurt and lied to. I’m so sorry Rafael, I had to do it.”

“I know I know you did. And you did great but, now I need you to just stay with me. Okay?”

“I’m tired, I j-just nee-”, you can’t help but let your heavy eyelids shut and slurs your words.

“No-no-no. Cmon stay with me. Tell me something, anything. W-whats your favourite joke?”

“I l-love you, Rafi. A-and I’m s-so sorry.”.

“Oh, Cariño I love you too. Now keep your eyes open and stay with me so you can say that we can say that to each other for the rest of our lives.”

That was all you needed to hear. Rafael’s soft loving voice telling you he loves you was the perfect send-off. So, your eyelids shut heavily and all your muscles completely relax, including your heart.

Rafael was in shock, he finally got to say how he felt about you only for you to die in his arms. He felt cold once the ambulance arrived and determined you dead on scene. He left and went to your apartment, it was only when he entered the threshold of your place that he broke down. He cried on the floor directly behind your door for 30 minutes before he could compose himself. That’s when he finally took in the sight before him. You cleaned, the papers that we once scattered were organized and some even tucked away. All pillows and decor had been purposefully placed, almost like you hadn’t touched anything in weeks. You had done the dishes and made your bed. You must have known the risk and cleaned beforehand in preparation for the worst. He stopped looking around when he saw a pen and paper disorganized on your desk, it was written to him. He slowly picked up the smooth paper, hands shaking at the feeling of an object you hand touched hours before. 

_Hey Rafi,_

_If you’re reading this it means the worst has happened. It also means that I owe you an apology. Rafael, I am so sorry that I let my emotions run over my rational. I am so sorry that I’ve left you. Please try to understand why I had to do it. My brother was manipulated and killed, so were others, I couldn’t let that doctor get away with hurting my brother and so many others. I needed to hear it for myself, straight from his mouth. I hope I got that. I hope you found the recorder in my pocket and have had it turned into evidence. I understand if you’re angry, you have every right to be._

_There is one last thing I need you to know, and I’m so sorry I have to do it over a crumby piece of paper. Rafael, I love you. I always have loved you. Your brain was what grabbed me first. Your quick wit that matched mine and your determination to succeed academically. You were always the smartest person in the room, and you always knew it too. Your love for family was absolutely heartwarming to see, you made me feel accepted and loved. I will never be able to properly thank you for that. You carry a hard exterior but you’re a softie at heart. I love seeing our soft side, knowing you trust me enough to see it. And on top of all of that, you're extremely hot. That’s right, I think you’re hot. Whether you’re in a three-piece suit or jeans and a t-shirt or even some worn-out pyjamas. You looked good in everything all the damn time. I thought it was unfair for you to be so beautiful inside and out._

_I love you, Rafael Barba. I am so sorry for any pain I’ve caused. I hope you can learn to accept my actions and get over my death. Don’t worry I’ll be watching you kick ass in court until the day you retire, which will most likely be never._

_Goodbye, mi Amor, till we meet again._


End file.
